


Red and Yellow on Your Wrist

by killing_all_joy



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angstyyyyyy, How Do I Tag, M/M, Sad Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Self Harm, Soulmate AU, This Is Sad, but if self harm bothers you pls dont read, i don't know if its graphic or not so thats why i didn't use that warning, i think i like this story, ish, post svsr, self harm tw, that is why its teen and up, this is probably one of my best works at the date it was published so, your soulmate's name is on your wrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killing_all_joy/pseuds/killing_all_joy
Summary: When Janus reveals his name, Roman realizes it's the name on his wrist. Bad things happen and it's very angsty.Heed the warnings in the tags.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 9
Kudos: 60





	Red and Yellow on Your Wrist

**Author's Note:**

> This is your third and final reminder to heed the warnings in the tags. Ily all please stay safe.

“My name…”

No.

This couldn’t be happening. If Deceit reveals his name…

_...they’ll trust him_.

“My name is Janus.”

No! Wait…

_...what_?

His name is _Janus_?

Roman’s eyes widened in surprise, horror, and devastation. He didn’t need to look at his wrist to know the deceitful side’s name was the one written there. Unless it was _Janice_. Janice was a name too, right? Right, like a middle school librarian.

Roman laughed.

He laughed. Laughed, to lessen the effect of his name reveal, to show that the simple reveal of a name wasn’t enough to trust.

But it wasn’t _simple_ , was it?

Because Roman laughed to throw suspicion from his realization too.

“Pfft, _Janice_. What are you, a middle school librarian?”

Yes, that’s all he was. A middle school librarian. Not some deceitful, half-snake, selfish, lying…

Not Roman’s soulmate.

_i-c-e, i-c-e, i-c-e, i-c-e_

“It’s a stupid name.”

Yes, it was. Deceit may not have parents, but who _would_ name their kid Janice, if they only wanted to damn them to a life of stacking books for hormonal teenagers? A name so old, so out of style, so easy to laugh at, so out of touch…who would do that?

Who would name their kid something that would tie them forever to someone like _him_?

_i-c-e, i-c-e, i-c-e, i-c-e_

“Roman, thank god you don’t have a mustache. Otherwise, between you and Remus—I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is.”

Roman’s stomach dropped. His face contorted. Shock, pain, a stab to the heart. Why would Deceit reveal his name to him, to Roman, to someone he knew to be his soulmate, if not to tell them they were destined to love each other?

No, that couldn’t be it. If they were soulmates, why would he do that? Maybe his name was indeed…

_i-c-e, i-c-e, i-c-e, i-c-e_

No. He just wanted Thomas to trust him. He must have believed that revealing his name was the only way to truly get Thomas to trust him, to accept him. But that comment wasn’t a retaliation, a shallow insult.

It was Deceit telling Roman he didn’t want him.

It was a _“Yes, you’re my soulmate. But don’t get any ideas.”_

Because Deceit hated him. He must. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have said that. His soulmate—someone who was supposed to love him no matter what—hated him.

_Was that even possible?_

Deceit had just compared him to Remus, his brother, everything he didn’t want to be. Roman was heroic, light, kid-friendly, passionate, loving, protective, and above all, a good person. His brother was practically the opposite. He didn’t want to be him, to be compared to him. Deceit knew this. He knew how terrible that comment would be, how much it would hurt.

“Are you guys seriously going to take his side?”

“No, I…”

_Why? Why were they taking Deceit’s side?_

Roman is _good_. He puts what is in Thomas’ heart out into the world. He’s worked so incredibly hard to be kinder, selfless, and _better_ because Patton, nay, _everyone_ encourages him to. And they were going to side with a lying, manipulative, identity thieving snake?

“Over _me_?”

Over _Roman_?

“He…”

Roman was the hero. _Wasn’t he_?

“Thomas, I thought I was your hero.”

“Y-You are.”

But how could he be? How could he be Thomas’ hero if Thomas were to side with a cruel, evil liar over him?

So he looks at Deceit. His evil enemy, yes, but also the side who always knew when Thomas was lying. He gives him a look, one that says _‘is he lying?’_.

Deceit nods. And nods only mean yes.

Roman suppresses a bitter laugh, blinking back tears before they could form. _How_ could _he still be Thomas’ hero_?

“Wow. I can’t believe this. Did you forget that he’s _evil_?”

_He’s evil, he’s evil, he’s so evil._

Roman’s soulmate is evil.

He can’t let Thomas be evil too.

“You’re not. Or, you’re not supposed to be. You’re supposed to be _good_. You _can’t_ -”

“Roman. Everything’s going to be okay, kiddo.”

No. No, it wasn’t. Roman, the hero, was meant for the villain. Roman, the romantic, was meant for someone who didn’t love him.

“We love you.”

But love, love is a strong word. Too strong a word to be used for whatever this...this _treatment_ of him was. They thought they loved him. Or, rather, Patton did. But no. They didn’t.

_Should they? Should they love him?_

“Right.”

Roman was meant for a villain, after all.

* * *

Janus was anxious about revealing his name. He knew that ultimately, he had to, so Thomas could trust him. Thomas trusting him would help him save Thomas’ mental health. But there was also Roman.

Passionate, heroic, do-gooder Roman. Roman, who was currently refusing to trust and accept him. Roman, the name written in messy but charming red script across his left wrist.

Roman, who he wished he was able to reveal his name to at any other time than this.

But he couldn’t. He had to get Thomas to trust him so he could save his mental health and perhaps teach a valuable lesson that Thomas would take to heart. So, he had to reveal his name, despite Roman’s present hatred of him.

Was there a part of him that thought that revealing his name would get Roman to lay off of his insults? Maybe. Maybe Janus thought that Roman knowing they were destined to love each other—romantic, platonic, or otherwise—would get him to stop, think, and then perhaps give him a chance. At least, he thought Roman would at least pause, think, and cool it.

But Janus didn’t expect Roman to laugh. No. _That_ , the _laughing_ , that took Janus by surprise.

_“What are you, a middle school librarian?”_

Roman was teasing him. But he was also pretending that he didn’t know the way Janus’ name was spelled. Maybe Patton and Thomas would buy Roman’s deception and think that he thought Janus meant ‘J-a-n-i-c-e’ but Janus knew better. He was Deceit, after all.

However, this could be Roman’s way of telling Janus he didn’t want him.

_Was it?_

Because Roman knew—he _had_ to have known that Janus’ name was spelled ‘J-a-n-u-s’ and therefore was his soulmate. Janus had ‘ _Roman_ ’ on his wrist so obviously ‘ _Janus_ ’ was on his. Roman didn’t want him, did he?

No. He didn’t. And that hurt him more than he was willing to admit.

So he lashed out.

_“Roman, thank god you don’t have a mustache. Otherwise, between you and Remus—I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is.”_

He lashed out. And the moment the words left his mouth, he was already regretting them. He realized that the insult would hurt Roman terribly. And he would never, _ever_ want to hurt his prince. Even if his prince wouldn’t want to have him.

And the look on Roman’s face...it was something he never wanted to see again. In any other circumstance, he would swear to murder whoever put that look on his face. Despite never wanting to, he hurt Roman. If Roman was still considering having him before, he never would now. No matter what their wrists said.

And when Roman gave him the look? The look that asked if Thomas was lying about Roman being his hero? He nodded. Nodded because Thomas was telling the truth. But when Roman took it the wrong way…

Janus couldn’t help but wonder if Roman not wanting him was a good thing after all.

* * *

Roman appeared in his room, just having sunken out from the conversation. The tears he had been holding in fell the second his feet were firmly planted onto the floor of his room. His cry was silent at first, the tears falling with nothing but silence accompanying them as he buried his face in his hands. He kicked what was likely a crumpled piece of paper that was on the ground near his foot, but the action did nothing to satisfy his anger.

His hands strayed from in front of his eyes enough for him to catch a glimpse of a picture of him with his fellow sides (barring Remus and Janus, of course). A few more tears escaped his eyes and a strangled sob tumbled from his lips.

He angrily kicked the picture off the desk it was resting on, letting it clatter to the floor. He repressed another sob and reached an arm out in the picture’s direction, perhaps regretting the harsh treatment of the harmless photo, but caught sight of his wrist.

Extending his arm had made his prince outfit ride up his arm a small amount.

And he could see the faintest hint of a name written in the prettiest yellow.

He collapsed onto the ground, banging his right fist into the floor. He didn’t hold his sobs in anymore. The sobs were loud, ugly, and left his body like a broken gumball machine. There was no stopping their endless attack on his throat.

_What is wrong with me?_

He screamed and coughed through the sobbing, and later Roman would attribute a least a few of his tears to the utter pain his crying had caused him. His right fist continued banging against the floor, not stopping even when the hand was red. The parts where the fist collided with the floor were sure to bruise up.

_What is wrong with the universe?_

He slammed his face into the ground, screaming into the ground and not caring whether he would be heard.

_Why put me through the pain of tying me to someone I hate, if that person will never find it in their heart to love me?_

He dug his nails into the floor, scratching with all his strength. He could feel a couple of his nails break.

_Why was the universe so cruel?_

He lifted his head a bit from the floor, rolling his left sleeve down so he could fully see what was written on his wrist. The five-letter name written in cursive, the yellow ink showing clearly despite his pale skin. It used to be beautiful and give him hope. It used to make him feel loved, worthy, and that his quest for romance was not in vain. Now, it was evil, disgusting, taunting, and made him feel like a Disney villain.

He crawled over to his desk and fumbled his hand across the surface, eventually picking up a black permanent marker. His shaky hands worked the cap open and then gripped it awkwardly in his right hand despite his left-handedness. He started to scribble over his wrist.

However, the ink ran out after a couple of seconds. The marker had apparently been very low on ink already and was now out. He sobbed, hurling the marker into the trash. He turned to lean back against the desk, still sitting on the floor. The five-letter word seemed to stare up at him mockingly. He growled and instead of a marker, he took his own hand to his wrist.

He scratched at the name, digging his nails as deep into his skin as he could manage, some nails breaking skin easier as they were already rough from scratching the floor.

He watched as blood spilled from the wounds, rolling down his arm and fingers, leaking onto both hands as his right was still marring his wrist. He didn’t allow himself to look horrified, he just focused on how the teasing, cruel thing that was the word _Janus_ was slowly getting concealed from view by either open wound or blood.

Eventually, once Janus was fully covered, he stumbled to his feet. He dragged his right hand against the wall, trying to get the blood off, but eventually staggered his way to his bathroom when that didn’t do the whole job.

He turned the faucet on, and let warm water run over his right hand. The blood, still wet, was washing off quite easily. He refused to wash his left hand, though, as that might wash the blood off his wrist and expose his soulmate’s name to the world.

_His soulmate._

Roman spat into a nearby trashcan.

He turned off the water, leaving the restroom and standing near where he had been earlier. He put his right hand to his face, crying into it. His cries weren’t as rough and painful as before, but he was still crying nonetheless.

Roman didn’t want to admit it, but he was confused. Confused about many things, but mainly this whole dark side business.

When Creativity split, he had learned that dark sides (namely his brother) were bad. Evil. Not to be trifled with. So he acted like it, especially with Virgil. Yes, Virgil did bother him by convincing Thomas to not do what Roman suggested, but he was also a dark side. And dark sides were evil, pure evil.

_Weren’t they?_

Apparently not, considering his fellow sides, as well as Thomas, had gotten on his back about his cruelty to Virgil. They scolded him and told him Virgil was good, and someone to be trusted. Someone to be loved.

Cut to a while later when Deceit enters the scene. Patton agrees with nothing he says, Virgil hates him, and everyone is scared of him.

But dark sides weren’t inherently bad, were they? Just look at Virgil!

So, Roman sided with Deceit in the courtroom. Deceit was advocating for what Roman wanted! Deceit _agreed_ with him, _understood_ him.

But then Roman is chastised for his actions—because dark sides were all evil except for Virgil.

And now, today, Deceit comes in and treats him like the others did in the courtroom. He treats him like he is an evil, manipulative liar. But instead of everyone doing the same, they get angry at Roman again?

What was the answer? Were dark sides good or evil? Roman had been getting conflicting answers from the same people.

If they _were_ evil, what would that mean? That would mean that Virgil had defected, was an exception, and could no longer be associated with them. Roman liked Virgil now, so obviously he would be an exception if that were indeed the conclusion. It also meant the others were wrong for siding with Deceit.

If they were good, that would mean something entirely different. It would make Virgil’s defection a decision of pure preference, and his brother...good. Remus? _Good_? That was something he couldn’t fathom. The Duke was everything Roman didn’t want to be.

But the dark sides being good...that also meant Roman wasn’t destined for an evil man.

That Roman’s soulmate—the person he was supposed to love always and forever—was, in fact, a good person. Roman wasn’t destined for a Scooby-Doo villain.

But that would also make Roman’s words in their argument misplaced and wrong. It would make them unforgivably mean, and that their receiver was undeserving of them. It would make _Roman_ the villain for saying such cruel things.

Such cruel things, thrown at his soulmate.

A soulmate who didn’t love him.

Roman could understand why.

* * *

Janus had sunk out, eventually getting bored of watching Thomas hang out with Lee and Mary Lee. He appeared in his room and tried to settle into a book.

It wasn’t far into the novel that Janus threw it down. He couldn’t focus—thoughts of Roman and what had transpired between them overwhelming his brain. He put his hands to his face, running over the skin and scales with his fingers and palms, mulling over what Roman had done. What he’d done.

He thought back to when Roman sunk out, remembering that Roman took Janus’ nod as a confirmation of a lie, that he in no way showed signs of taking Patton’s reminder of their love for him to heart, and that he sunk out looking more dejected than a person whose partner had just denied their proposal of marriage. Janus knew he messed up.

He thought over what Roman had done. Roman hated him at the time Janus revealed his name, so when he found out…

Janus understood why Roman laughed. Roman didn’t know what to say, what to think, and if he didn’t do anything or let everyone know why he was shocked then they’d have to go over a private topic Roman hadn’t even accepted yet. So he laughed—because yes, Janice is a name that people will mock. It is in no way a desirable, stylish, or attractive name. He wouldn’t be suspected of anything if he laughed, except perhaps rudeness and insensitivity. Roman didn’t know what to do, so he took the easiest way out.

Janus also figured it was a way for Roman to try to convince himself that Janus’ name was spelled ‘J-a-n-i-c-e’ instead of what was on the princely side’s wrist. By outwardly expressing belief that he interpreted the name incorrectly, he could start to believe it—especially when no one corrected him. Roman could try to believe that he was destined for a completely different Janus.

But he had to have stopped that charade by now. Roman had to have realized that he is Janus’ soulmate, and has likely acknowledged the correct way his name was spelled.

On the flip side, how could Janus expect him to? Roman learned the identity of his soulmate under one of the worst possible circumstances Janus could fathom. Roman was probably under the impression that Janus didn’t like him right now.

_Oh gosh...what if Roman thought Janus hated him?_

It was certainly a possibility.

This meant that there was a chance that Roman discovered the identity of his soulmate—only to believe just a moment later that said soulmate despised him. And, if this was indeed what had transpired, Roman was going through this alone. He had all of these running thoughts, revelations, assumptions, and opinions to sort through and he was going through it all alone. Yes, Patton promised to check up on him, but would anyone really think Roman would let him? Patton, while a sweetheart, was not someone suitable to consult with for such a topic. Janus knew he would refuse Patton’s comfort if he were in Roman’s shoes.

But Roman, going through all those relentless thoughts, cognitive distortions, and overall confusion alone—that was something Janus hated to think about. It didn’t matter if Janus thought Roman currently hated him. There was no one else Roman could properly speak to about the matter at hand.

Janus sunk out of his room, appearing in front of Roman’s door as he didn’t want to intrude on or scare the side. He knocked.

Janus’ knock was followed by a few seconds of silence. Eventually, he heard a voice from the other side of the door.

“I told you to leave me alone, Patton,” he heard Roman say. “I don’t want nor need your assistance.”

Janus paused, before knocking again and accompanying the action with an introduction. “I’m _definitely_ Patton, Roman.”

Janus’ correction was followed by silence for a minute or so. Janus didn’t want to knock again as he didn’t want to be taken as rude or impatient, but he feared he might have to as Roman wasn’t interacting with him.

Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“What do you want, Deceit?” Roman asked, voice closer than it was before. Janus guessed Roman had approached the door during the silence.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Roman scoffed. “Talk? Didn’t we do that earlier? Look how that ended.”

Janus shook his head. “This is different, Roman. It’s just you and me this time.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

Janus paused, contemplating his response. “I believe there are many things we need to go over. Would you consider letting me in?”

Roman laughed bitterly. “That’s just your way of saying that you’ve come here for my apology.”

“No, it’s not. Anything apology-related coming from you was not something that crossed my mind when coming here. And even if it did, I believe I would be right in saying you aren’t quite ready to apologize.”

Silence from the other side of the door seemed to prove him right.

“Which is fine, Roman. I don’t require it now.” Janus took a deep breath. “Look. I’ve had some time to think over our conversation and analyze everything that was said down to the letter. Suffice it to say, we have a lot we need to talk about. I understand you not wanting to speak to me—however, we have both had some time to be alone. Also, there is almost no way you aren’t being negatively affected right now by cognitive distortions, and considering where they likely come from, a conversation between the two of us would be a _terrible_ way to resolve them. But, even if you aren’t being illusioned by your mind, we still need to talk.”

He heard a click of the lock after a substantial pause before he heard footsteps walk away from the door. Janus feared that Roman had locked the door, but waited for a statement from him before doing anything.

“You may enter.”

Janus slowly moved his hand to the doorknob, bare right hand grasping the cold metal of the door handle that made a shiver run down his spine and turned the knob with shaking fingers. He didn’t want to admit or show it, but he was just as nervous about this talk as Roman, if not more. But, he also knew it was necessary.

He entered the room, closing the door softly behind him. He turned the lock, hearing it click. Janus figured neither of them would want anyone intruding.

The serpentine side turned to face Roman. Or, rather, Roman’s back. The prince was standing at least five yards in front of him, and Janus was left facing his back. Roman had his right arm at his side, his left presumably in front of him (Janus couldn’t see a majority of Roman’s left arm), and his legs were stiff. Too stiff.

“Locking your knees cuts off blood flow to your calves and feet, and I would _love_ for you to pass out while we’re talking,” Janus remarked.

Roman shifted and unlocked his knees. Janus noticed that the loosened legs were now shaking violently. Silence befell them for half a minute or so, Janus attempting to compose himself and his thoughts before speaking.

“Well, Roman,” Janus started quietly. “What should we start with?”

Roman didn’t respond. He just stood there in silence for a few minutes.

“You know, I don’t blame you,” Janus started. “I’m not mad anymore. Again, I didn’t come here for an ap-”

“You knew. You had to have known,” Roman interrupted, voice small. “You had to have known since the beginning. That we were...you knew, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes…”

“You knew!” Roman exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything? You’ve known for forever, and you didn’t say a word! And not even before or after your name reveal. You just...pretended like it didn’t exist.”

“Roman, you have to understand, I had just introduced myself to people who hated me.”

“I get not saying anything at first, but what about after? What about after the courtroom episode, you could’ve come and talked to me after that. You could’ve told me your name. Spared us this terrible day. I would’ve known, and you wouldn’t have put me on the spot like you did today! Forcing me to participate actively in a conversation when I’m going through an identity crisis—why would you do that?”

“I didn’t think there was a good time to tell you, and then I _had_ to tell Thomas my name to get him to trust me,” Janus explained. “If I could do it all again, I would, and I’d tell you sooner. I just didn’t think I’d have to reveal my name.”

“It...it doesn’t _matter_ anymore, Deceit!”

“My name is Janus, you might as well use it, now that I’ve said it!”

“Why should I?” Roman shot back. “Its first usage decimated me. I don’t have to write with what penned my execution warrant.”

Janus took a few seconds to process Roman’s scathing statements. “That’s not an expression, Roman.”

“You know what I mean!”

Janus sighed. “Either way, I don’t call you Creativity.”

“That’s because the title belongs to my brother too.” Roman took a deep breath when Janus said nothing. “Look, Deceit. What’s done is done and we can’t change it.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

Roman ignored him. “You knew what would happen to me. You knew what I was going through. You _had_ to have known.” Roman paused, shaking his head. “You _know_ why I reacted the way I did. There’s no question!”

“Eventually, yes, but-”

“So why did you say it?!”

A small silence followed Roman’s words. They seemed to echo across his room, but that could have just been Janus’ mind exaggerating as he processed the exclamation. “I…”

“You _knew_ what I was going through. Everything...all of my actions. They had a reason. My mind was working a mile a second and I had to react somehow. You knew this. You probably considered it before you revealed your name.”

Janus opened his mouth to reply, but Roman beat him to it.

“But you said it anyway! You said it, that statement, that _insult_ , that you _knew_ would break my heart. You knew it would! You knew exactly what it would do to me. But _you_...oh, you. Despite knowing what revealing your name then and there would do to me, despite knowing my reaction was very likely going to be bad, you took time out of your day to craft the perfect little scathing remark that would ruin me on the spot.”

“Roman-”

“I bet you thought it up earlier! I bet you planned this all along. You knew you would reveal your name, you knew I would respond like I did, and used that as an opportunity to insult me. I could probably find the exact words you said to me written down on a sticky note in your room.”

“Roman, no! That’s not-” Janus was getting desperate.

“How fun was it? How _satisfying_? How completely and utterly _fulfilling_ was it to finally be able to knock me down?” Roman asked venomously.

“That’s not how it was at all!” Janus cried. “I...I didn’t mean to hurt you. Your insult to my name hurt me...I thought-”

“And yours didn’t hurt me?”

“I thought you were rejecting me!” Janus blurted.

A small silence followed his words, Roman eventually breaking it with a scoff.

“Why would you say what you did, then, if not to destroy any possibility of something happening between us?” Roman asked, shaking his head. “No. I know how you lie, Deceit, and you lie all the time. You needed to make sure I knew your name reveal meant nothing. Did you need everyone to know of your hatred for me? Or did you say it just in case I said something to the others about our wrists, to let them know nothing would come of us? You just said that to-”

“No, no I didn’t. I said that because I was stupid and selfish and hurt. I don’t hate you, Roman. I never have and I never will. I never _could_.”

“You don’t show that well!” Roman paused for a quick second. “You can’t say you care right after you destroy any possibility of good things happening between us.”

Janus closed his eyes and turned his head to the floor. He didn’t want to damn him and Roman to a hateful relationship, but Roman said he did—and Janus knew he’d never be able to forgive himself if that ended up being true.

“I thought you did,” Janus responded after a few moments.

“W-What?”

“I thought your laugh...your comment...I thought it was an indication that you didn’t want me.”

“I don’t want you.”

Janus winced. “I thought you meant it as a way to say you hated me, that you didn’t want us to be what we are, that you wanted to destroy any chance of it happening.”

Roman sighed. “I didn’t want to destroy it, I was just surprised! I said it as a knee-jerk reaction to mask my shock and identity crisis—who knows, maybe I would consider something happening if I was given time to process—but then you said what you said, and I can’t help but see it as your way of stomping on a young flower that has yet to bloom. You don’t need to sugarcoat it and pretend you’re sorry, didn’t want to hurt me, and didn’t mean for what you said to have that much of an effect on the future of our relationship.”

“Look, Roman,” Janus started, trying to keep his emotions separate from his voice. “I was hurt and lashed out and I'm sorry, however, I now understand your actions and don't need nor want an apology from you. My name reveal was cruel to you and I'm sorry about that. Just please believe me when I say I mean mine with all my heart. I don't hate you. How could I, with your name on my wrist? I've known your name for a long while now, but I didn't tell you earlier because I didn't think you were ready. I ended up being too late. Please know that I meant nothing of that insult; you and your brother are so incredibly different and you are not evil. You're not evil at all. You're Roman, good Roman, Roman who gives his heart away too much and now tries his best to hold it close to his chest.” And now he keeps his heart from Janus. Roman didn’t want him, after all.

_But did Janus want Roman_?

Yes. Absolutely. Of _course_ he did.

“Roman. I didn't mean to destroy us. I don't want to destroy us, and I hope you know that. I hope you know that Patton was right; we love you. I hope you know that I care for and love you. And I hope you know that I want you. So, so badly.” Janus shook his head. “And here I am, having ruined my chances.”

He took a couple of steps forward, before stopping. He didn’t want to alarm the prince right before saying what he was preparing to.

“I know this. I don't expect anything more. But please, before I leave, let me see the face of the man I have been so incredibly stupid with and wronged. Please, let me see you before I go,” Janus pleaded, not hiding the begging tone of his voice. He wanted to see his soulmate, for what could be the last time when it was just the two of them. He wanted to see the damage he had done. He wanted to feel all the guilt he should be feeling.

“I can’t,” Roman said harshly, voice firm. It sounded like he was trying to take all emotion out of it.

Janus sighed, staying put behind Roman for a second. Janus had just opened his heart to Roman, and now...well, who could blame Roman?

“Just _go_!” Roman shouted, throwing his left arm out forcefully and pointing to the door. He then winced in pain, immediately retracting his arm and clutching his wrist.

Janus’ eyes widened. Concern crossed his features, and he approached Roman. “What happened, Roman? Are you in pain?”

“N-No, just go.” Tears started to fall down Roman’s face.

Janus shook his head in refusal and stood on the prince’s left. He tilted his head, eyes focused on the wrist Roman was clutching, but not able to see what had transpired. He placed his right hand on Roman’s shoulder lightly and used his other to softly work Roman’s fingers away from what Janus presumed to be a wound.

“P-Please, Deceit. Please leave,” he begged, gasping in a breath. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” Janus was hardly able to hear Roman’s last sentence.

Janus sighed, tsking. “Roman.” His voice was delicate, not wanting to sound overbearing or teasing. “I would never judge you. You are clearly in need of help, so let me.”

Janus had finally worked the last of Roman’s fingers from his wrist, and Janus pulled up Roman’s sleeve, causing whimpers of protest to leave the creative side. He looked down and saw it.

Roman’s wrist had been scratched like it was done by a werewolf who hadn’t had dinner. Blood, some of it in somewhat of a liquid form but a lot of it dried, covered his wrist and a good amount of his forearm. There were scratch marks all over Roman’s wrist, and Janus knew instantly what had happened.

“Oh, Roman,” Janus lamented quietly. “I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t,” Roman said through tears. “Please. J-Just go.”

Janus frowned, fingers hovering over the wound. “I didn’t want to push you to this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Roman replied, gritting his teeth.

“Maybe not directly,” Janus agreed, “but this was to cover my name, wasn’t it?”

Roman didn’t reply. Janus took that as a yes. He wiped away a small amount of blood with his thumb, uncovered a cursive _J_ that had a scratch through it.

“Why would you let me stand and talk to you,” Janus started almost silently, “when your wrist has become all but a canvas for the yellow of my name and the red of your blood?”

“Leave me alone, Deceit!” Roman started to raise his voice. “Go away!”

Janus shook his head, indicating a refusal. “No. I won’t let you suffer. Let me help; it’s the least I can do. I can take you to the bathroom, we can clean you up-”

“ _No_!” Roman yelled. “I can deal with it on my own.”

“What a _great_ idea, Roman. Marvelous, really. Just let your wrist bleed until-”

“Stop,” Roman said, shaking his head. “No. I won’t let you help. The door is over there, I trust you know how to walk.”

“Roman-”

“You’ve done enough already.”

“I…”

Janus couldn’t speak. Tears came to his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Roman’s current pain was enough for both of them. Roman didn’t want Janus’ help, his care, his words. He just wanted him gone. Janus couldn’t blame him, but _gosh_ , did it hurt.

“Roman, you know how much I play into self-preservation. It would be infringing on my function as a side to just _leave_ you here and let your blood dry till it hurts to wash off and let your wound be exposed so long it gets infected. You can’t just expect me to-”

Roman raised his right hand, and Janus disappeared from his room. Janus’ eyes widened, but instead of directing his surprise to Roman’s beautiful face, it was to the empty space in front of him in his room.

* * *

Roman sighed, dropping his hand. He walked over to his desk, slamming his right hand onto it in exasperation. Deceit had been so _nice_ —or was at least trying to be.

Maybe that was the problem.

Roman had seen Deceit as evil, unkind, inconsiderate, and unloveable. To see him be kind, caring, and protective challenged all that Roman had decided about him. Considering how confused Roman already was, it only made whatever was going on inside his head worse.

Roman wanted love. He had always been excited to meet his soulmate. But did he want Deceit?

No, he couldn’t keep calling him that. He was his soulmate, whether Roman liked it or not. His name was on Roman’s wrist.

Did Roman want Janus, even after everything he did?

Maybe. He didn’t know.

Only time could tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


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